


How Disney Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Gays

by katekane



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Bechel Test Pass, Coming Out, F/F, Fluff, Humour, LGBTQ acceptance, sister support
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 21:02:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14601642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katekane/pseuds/katekane
Summary: Coming out conversation with a humourous twist.Elsa needs to ask Anna for love advice, and this means she has to tell her sister something she has not yet told anyone. Fortunately, Anna is more open-minded than Elsa would have thought. Like, *a lot* more...





	How Disney Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Gays

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a pun on one of my favourite crip movie. Yes, I really am that silly.

”You’re asking ME for ADVICE??” 

Princess Anna is so taken aback by the request that her eyes appear to be about to fall out of her head. She pushes a lock of unruly red hair from one of them and quickly schools her features into what she thinks is required of the kind of authority her sister is bestowing upon her. Anna's enthusiasm betrays her, however. 

“Oh Elsa, I’d be thrilled to help my big sister out in her QUEST for LURVE. It’s true, I do have quite a bit of experience to draw from.” She seems almost a little smug as she adds the last part. Who can blame her? Anna has always been outgoing, impulsive and - compared to her serious, responsible sister Queen Elsa of Arendelle - a little clumsy. The one in need of guidance, certainly not the one spilling wisdom. And now, for once, the tables are turned. 

The redhead’s enjoyment of the situation does not rub off on Elsa. She seems to crouch even more in on herself, clings to her mug of hot chocolate as if it were the only fixed point in her universe. “Don’t get too excited. I don’t know if it’s love exactly,” she mumbles.

“Right, that’s why you want to know what being in love feels like!” Anna smiles so widely it should have brightened up just about anything. “I’d say you feel lightheaded, a little jumpy, full of butterflies - but also a little heavy, like you could melt right into that couch you’re sitting on right now,” she nods towards her sister. Her speech is rapidly picking up pace, on the verge of becoming a ramble. Being authoritative is *not* Anna’s forte. “It’s kind of like waiting for Christmas Eve, you know? This sort of secretive expectation before you get to unwrap all those colorful boxes. And of course, most importantly, all you can think about is THE ONE. You WANT to be with him, yet you’re also NERVOUS about being with him, because there’s that WONDERFULLY ticklish sensation whenever he even LOOKS at you…” 

A dreamy, slightly introvert expression has taken over Anna’s face, and perhaps she hasn’t really noticed her sister for a little while. Now she does. And Elsa looks as if she wants to drown herself in her hot chocolate. Literally, not metaphorically. Anna, ever the romantic, cannot for the life of her understand this. 

“Why are you looking all upset? Being in love is FANTASTIC!” She tilts her head, momentarily sobering up at a particularly *not* fantastic flashback. “Unless, of course, you’ve fallen for someone who is plotting to kill you.”

Elsa, knowing where Anna’s mind has gone, looks up at that. She shakes her head, and her hair, unlike her sister’s, stays in place. “No, that’s not the case at all,” she assures.

Anna lets out a sigh of relief and sits on the armrest of their couch. “Well, SPILL it, then!” She gestures with her empty mug. She has made short work of her chocolate. “What IS the big P?”

There is a beat. Anna is looking encouragingly at her sister, whose eyes are actually flickering. Seeing the queen this fidgeting is unusual to say the least. “It’s just…” Elsa hesitantly begins. “I’m afraid of what people might think if they knew who I’ve…” She takes a deep breath and finally gets to the point: “I’m afraid of what *you* will think.”

“WHY would you be afraid of THAT?” 

Who would have thought Anna’s youthful forehead could get that many wrinkles? She is the picture of confusion, yet the next sentence out of her mouth is uncharacteristically eloquent: 

“I’m just happy my sister is letting her heart rule her head for a change. You know, that’s what I did with Kristoff,” she adds as if putting her heart first wasn’t her modus operandi. “I never would have rationally come to the conclusion that my one and only would be someone like…” 

Suddenly Anna is wide-eyes. Head has interrupted heart. Or is it the other way round? 

“Wait, it’s not Kristoff, is it?”

Elsa, for the first time during their conversation, is smiling. “No, it’s not.”

Anna completely ignores this. “I can see why you might be afraid of telling me THAT. Oh, Elsa, that’s…” Her hair is being shaken all over the place now. "I had NO idea we had THE SAME TYPE.” 

“We really don’t,” Elsa interjects, trying and failing to stop her sister from going on a roll.

“It certainly IS complicated. You. Me. KRISTOFF. Love triangle is not the right word, is it? I really don’t know QUITE how to…” She blinks, and it’s directed at her sister, but she’s not really seeing anything. “Does he know?”

There’s a tiny, tiny pause in Anna’s wordy avalanche, and Elsa uses it to calmly state: “It’s not Kristoff.”

Yet the avalanche is back with a vengeance. “Things could become very awkward if he knew. To be honest I’m not exactly SURE you should tell him, at least not right to his face, he tends to get a little… UNLESS you already have?!”

Now Elsa is raising her voice. She has to get Anna to snap out of her monologue. “I’m telling you. It’s *not* Kristoff.”

The younger sister is looking increasingly miserable. An entire fairytale, and not the good kind, is clearing playing out in her head. “If you TRULY love each other, then I suppose I can’t really… I mean, you are my sister. It would UPSET me of course, but how could I come between…”

”IT’S NOT A MAN!!”

The only thing that would be more unexpected than Elsa asking Anna for advice is Elsa shouting in a decidedly not femininely regal way. It has the intended effect. Anna is shocked out of her inner narrative and back to reality. For a moment she is gaping at her sister in a way not unlike a codfish. ”Oh,” she says. Then, as the meaning of her sister’s words sink it, she repeats it more emphatically: “OH.”

Oh, indeed. Elsa take a sip from her now less-than-hot chocolate. She does not really know what else to do with her hands or her mouth as she waits for her little sister’s verdict. She does not have to wait long.

“Well, that’s a relief,” Anna concludes. “I mean, it’s a relief that you’re NOT in love with KRISTOFF. But I can see how it could be complicated none the less,” she admits. 

Anna is not the kind to expect the worst or anything bad, really, so this coming from her feels serious. Like Elsa’s sense of doom is being affirmed. Elsa sighs with defeat. “There is no way it could ever work, is there? Certainly not for a queen.”

And just like that, Anna’s trademark optimism is back. “I don’t know, people are more open-minded than you think, Elsa. Sometimes you just have to give them a little time.” Her wide smile is back, she is almost banging her mug against the wall as she gestures. “I mean, AT FIRST they were afraid of your ice magic, right? But now everyone LOVES the skating rings, the sculptures, the free slushies…”

Elsa ponders this for a moment. “Do you really think it compares? I mean this… THING is not about special powers. It’s about defying the most basic definitions of what a royal couple should look like.” 

Saying it out loud is a lot worse than just hearing the words in her own mind. So definitive. So heavy. This is what she is about to turn her life into; dreadful, hopeless heaviness. The feeling is so intense it seeps out of Elsa's fingers without her realising it, something that she outgrew years ago. The telling *creak* as the remaining chocolate and mug freeze in Elsa’s hand make both sisters jerk. 

Elsa puts down the mug-shaped ice cube. Anna clears her throat. The unusual quiet between them is suffocating.

The younger sister takes it upon herself to cut the silence short. With an air of determination she puts her own mug down. She removes the ice cube from her sister’s lap. Then she reaches for Elsa’s hands, both of them, and holds them. They are cold as always, but Anna gives them a squeeze as if to communicate that she is not the least bit afraid of anything Elsa could throw her way. “Well, if you love someone, then you love them. And love is by definition a GOOD thing. It melts winters, right?” She adds the last part with a knowing smile, and Elsa almost returns it. Her hands begin to warm up a little.

“Is that really what you think?” Elsa wonders. 

“Yes, OF COURSE! And you have so much love in you, Elsa. Anyone on the receiving end of some of it should consider themselves lucky. And anyone witnessing it should realize it’s good.” 

Yet Elsa is still not biting. “What about my duties as a queen? I am expected to…” She wets her lips, not liking the taste of the words she is about to spill. “Produce an heir.” There. Like vomit.

Clearly Anna had not thought that far. Her brows have disappeared behind her bangs. Is she a little disturbed by the mental images Elsa has brought about? Is she perhaps not as accepting as she at first seemed? Is Elsa’s particular love maybe not this pure and good thing love is supposed to be? 

No, Anna’s thoughts turn out to be of a simple, practical nature: “Well, I really don’t like to plan far ahead, but I suppose Kristoff and I might help out in that department. Or perhaps you could adopt?” There’s no judgement, only a hint of concern and this concern is probably why Anna continues: “I know it’s not my place to ask, but the bed-sharing… How would that work exactly?”

Who knew even Elsa could burn bright hot? Her almost white cheeks are turning the color of flamingos and she cannot meet her sisters inquiring gaze. “It’s not THAT different,” she sputters. “Most of the things you and Kristoff…” Not flamingo anymore. More like mail box red. “…what I imagine you might…” Purple, really. The frozen mug of chocolate has melted. Elsa wishes she could melt the couch and the floor as well so they could swallow her up. “…I imagine we would do at least some of the same things,” she vaguely concludes. The couch is still there, still solid. Unfortunately.

Anna is not blushing in the least. She must be really worried to not realize how awkward this conversation is becoming. “But Kristoff and I are restless sleepers,” she says. “I know YOU'RE not, but what if your PARTNER is? If your loved one ACCIDENTALLY rolled on top of you while asleep… You would DIE, wouldn’t you?” 

Anna looks so earnest, yet none of what she has just said makes any sense to Elsa. “Why would that kill me?”

Anna lets go of Elsa’s hands - they must be really sweaty by now anyway - and scratches at her face. “Well, they are HEAVY, aren’t they?”

Elsa blinks, not comprehending. “Kristoff should be heavier.”

And now Anna has reached exasperated. “Kristoff is NOT MADE OF STONE! Even if you’ve fallen for one of the shortest trolls they’ve got to weigh at least as much as-“

“You think I’m in love with a troll??” Elsa is close to shouting for the second time that day or in her life, really, and now it’s Anna’s turn to not understand a thing. 

“No, I...” She blinks in confusion, the way Elsa did before. Then corrects herself: “Well, yes?”

“Why on earth would you think that??” Even Elsa’s perfect hairdo cannot withstand this level of absurdity. A strand comes loose as she shakes her head so fast it could quite possibly damage her brain. A brain that is unable to catch up with her sister’s grotesque line of reasoning anyway. 

“You said it yourself!” Anna’s voice has shrunk. It’s a little defensive, a little unsure.”You said it’s not a man! And I guess I just automatically ruled out Sven…” She frowns. “Shouldn’t I have?

What’s that pearly, unfamiliar sound? It’s Elsa laughing. A full belly laughter, nothing like the girly giggles she’s normally prone to. This is Elsa letting everything go. 

Anna, sensing she is the butt of the joke, is a little offended. “What’s so funny?” she asks sourly.

“Oh, Anna,” Elsa wipes a tear from her eye. “I didn’t mean man as in human. I meant man as in male.” She decides it’s better to spell it out: “I’m in love with a woman. Or at least, I think I might be,” she shyly adds.

“I see!” Finally they’re on the same page. Or not, because the next words out of Anna’s mouth are. “Well, what IS the problem then?”

“Uhm, hello. She’s a woman. As am I?”

Elsa’s sarcasm has no effect on Anna. “Does she not like you back?”

“I don’t know,” Elsa turns her attention to her own nails. “I hadn’t really gotten that far in my…”

“Well, that IS a problem!” Anna is gleaming now. All pieces have fallen into place. “You NEED to know! But don’t worry,” she wiggles her shoulders in a less than subtle way. “Anna is going to work her SUBTLE MAGIC and help you win the gal of your dreams!”

Elsa doubts subtle is something Anna could ever be capable of, but right now that's a good thing. Anna’s theatricality makes her easy to read, and what is clear as day is that Anna has no issues whatsoever with this secret Elsa has just shared with her. Anna doesn’t care if Elsa has lost her heart to another woman. In fact, she didn’t even seem bothered by the - ludicrous - thought of Elsa loving a mythical stone creature. Elsa ponders this as Anna gets up from the armrest. 

“Anna… Would you really have been okay with me falling for a troll?”

Anna doesn’t have to think. “Of course I would! You’re my sister. Even if you fell for a giant PINE TREE, I’d still love you.” She says it as if it were the most natural thing in the world - this love she has for Elsa that makes no demands and never falters. “I’d help you rebuild your bed, too,” she continues, “Because I really don’t think a tree would FIT as it is.”

Giggling, Elsa, too, gets up from the couch. She feels lighter than she has in weeks. “You’re wonderfully crazy, Anna. Actually, you’re just wonderful.” She pecks her sister, who turned out to be just right for this whole advice thing, on the cheek. “Thanks for being you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Now put on "You Are My Sister" by Anohni and have a happy, queer-allied cry :-)


End file.
